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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018641">Outside or Inside</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishiterumo/pseuds/aishiterumo'>aishiterumo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>My personal Hematite [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stray Kids (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Changbin (mentioned) - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, Light Angst, Panic Attacks, Social Anxiety</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:54:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,683</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26018641</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishiterumo/pseuds/aishiterumo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything was fine until Minho got reminded he needed to go out. Everything was fine until Minho asked him to go out with him. He really thought everything was fine, until it was not.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>My personal Hematite [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839322</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Outside or Inside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: I know everyone who experiences Panic Attacks experience  it in their own way, not necessarily the way I depicted it in this work.</p><p>A/N: this work is part of a series 'My personal Hematite' which contains therapeutic works i wrote during some of my dark moments (panic attacks, depression episode, dissociation episode etc). i wrote these to help myself, they may not make any sense and are not related in any way. read with care, and be mindful of your comments. Thank you.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Wanna go downtown?” Minho’s voice chimed up in the room. He slightly got up from his spot on Jisung’s stomach. He looked up just enough to see his friend’s face, who just moved his phone out of the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything you wanna do?” Jisung’s head was already throbbing, imagining being outside. Still, he forced a smile to his face. Minho nodded his head. “Well, let’s go I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho got out of the bed, putting another T-shirt on instead of the one he already had on–was it the one from the day before or simply his pajama? Jisung wasn’t even sure. Nonetheless, he watched from the corner of his eye as his friend was changing, he couldn’t help himself but watch as his muscles moved at each movement he made. As soon as the other turned around, he sat up on the bed. “Let’s go?” Minho smiles, obnoxious to Jisung’s staring. The boy nodded, feeling a lump in his throat he decided to ignore for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both put their shoes on, taking their phones, keys, wallet in their pockets. Minho had vaguely explained that he needed to go to a bookstore and buy one specific edition of a book Jisung had already forgotten the name of. They locked the front door and started walking down the streets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was fine at first. There weren't many people, Jisung was talking with Minho about a random subject he wasn’t even sure of. He had troubles keeping his thoughts at bay, but still managed to do so. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s too many people here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his inner voice was whispering. He ignored it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then I started listening to that group,” Minho continued, unaware of Jisung’s thoughts. “I’m not a hardcore fan of them, but their latest album is so good, I kept on listening to it.” There was true happiness in his voice, it made Jisung’s stomach fill with warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, really? Send me the spotify link and I’ll listen to it later,” Jisung turned his head towards his friend for a second. “I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho chuckled, maybe because he knew Jisung would probably not listen to it, or was it because he found him cute to promise something he couldn’t do? Everyone knew Jisung wasn’t the best at listening to new things. He needed the comfort from his own favorite groups, the warmth of comfort it brought him, to know the voices, the lyrics, the melodies and everything that came within the habits he created.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They arrived closer to the city center, right in front of the subway station. Jisung’s stomach churned uncomfortably, his head throbbed and his throat tightened. Once again, he ignored it. He followed Minho as they passed their transportation card to enter the station. Walking down the stairs all the way to the platform, he looked at every person walking past them, whether they were going down or up the stairs. He looked at them, even if it was only for a second. He then focused back on Minho. He followed the boy, stopping right next to him as they waited for the next subway to arrive. Minho was still talking, it kept his thoughts at bay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No but,” Jisung’s voice was a bit rough. It was hard to breath. “I just don’t get it, like. Why did he leave, again?” He was standing up next to Minho, the subway moving fast. He leaned a bit towards his friend, trying to stay in his bubble and forget about all the other people around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you twice already. Come on, aren’t you listening?” Minho chuckled. “He left Changbin because he, and I quote, was too short and clingy for him.” He grunted, hands turned into flats against his thigh. “I swear to god, if I see that guy again, I’ll punch him in the face. No one hurts my friend like that!” Jisung hummed in agreement, leaning against his friend to rest his head on his shoulder. They needed to get out at the next station. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Too many people</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his inner voice was a bit louder, yet still whispering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they got out of the subway, Jisung really thought it’d go better. It did not. There were a bunch of people, a whole crowd. They were still in the streets, but it was so crowded. He felt constricted in his own ribcage. Minho eyed him for a short moment before taking his hand in his. He squeezed it a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They quickly arrived at the bookstore. Minho was still holding his hand, caressing it to reassure his fidgeting friend. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He knows</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jisung’s inner voice sounded cocky. He disliked it. He walked next to his taller and older friend, trying to disappear behind his frame. Everyone was towering over him. Too close to his safe bubble. Too close to him. He squeezed his friend’s hand just a little bit tighter, his free hand making its way on his chest, softly tapping his fingers against it, mimicking his heartbeat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Steady. Steady. Fast. Fast. Too fast. Way too fast. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Minho turned around, putting his free hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is everything ok?” He sounded worried. Way too worried for Jisung’s liking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m fine. Did you find your book?” He tried to keep his voice steady and normal, he couldn’t feel his breathing, his throat was so tight he could choke on his own air at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I think it’s in the next section, thought. Wanna stay here?” He looked around before pointing at two small couches right opposite them, in the kids section. It looked peaceful, calm. The thoughts of getting into his own bubble on that small blue couch was oh so tempting Jisung almost agreed. However, imagining him, a twenty-something-year-old guy sitting in the kids section on a kids couch with everyone probably staring at him, it made his head spin and ears ring. He shook his head </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> and followed his friend to the next section, looking for his book.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>People, people. People, too many people. Get out. Just get out of here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it was getting louder in his head. Jisung started to tap his heartbeat with his hand, right against his heart once again. This time, Minho was too busy searching for his book to notice him. He had let go of his hand, gotten him out of his safe bubble. Jisung was on his own, broken bubble around him, invaded by everyone’s around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just get out</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his inner voice ordered him. No, he won’t. He wasn’t weak. He could manage that. It was simply a bookstore. Minho was there. Everything was fine. He closed his eyes just the time to inhale deeply. His breath hitched in his throat as a shudder ran along his spine. He felt trapped. He looked around himself, all the people looked too close to him, he couldn’t find Minho. Minho? Where was Minho?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes again, his hand tapping a bit faster against his chest. The room grew hot, his blood felt hot under his skin. He could hear everyone talking, it felt like everyone’s eyes were on him, they were talking about him. Judging him. Even their thoughts were about him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opened his eyes again, he saw Minho’s staring at him, worry painted all over his face. “Are you ok? You can go out of the store while I pay, I don’t have for long I promise. Just wait outside, mmh?” He couldn’t find it in himself to refuse. Slowly, almost robotically, he nodded and walked towards the exit. He stared at his goal, outside. He couldn’t see the people around him anymore, couldn’t see the books either. He went outside and let his body slide against the bookstore’s wall, shutting himself out from the world. Outside was too much, too dangerous.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Come to me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the little voice was soft. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. His hand was still tapping on his chest, steadily. His heartbeat was steady. His blood still felt hot. His skin had goosebumps all over it. His head was a throbbing mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone’s staring at you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the little voice whispered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They think you’re weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it continued. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They look at you and wonder why you’re such a freak. They pity you. They even hear what you’re thinking. They know. Everything. You’re pathetic. They all think you’re pathetic</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the voice spat. It sounded disgusted. Jisung was disgusting. He was pathetic. He could feel sobs stuck in his throat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re the worst, Jisung.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were closed, tightly closed. The outside world was blocked. He couldn’t see anyone. He still felt eyes staring at him. He felt it. It was true. It was all true. They were judging him. Pitying him. He could feel their disgusted stares on him, he could feel their eyes piercing through his skin, his skull, they heard his thoughts. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They know</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jisung?” He heard the voice. He heard the familiar voice. “Hey, Jisung.” He took a deep breath, shaking. “Jisung, it’s me.” Inside was so scary. “It’s me, Minho. It’s me.” Inside was worse than outside. Inside was bad. Inside was the worst. “Hey, buddy. Buddy it’s me. Can I touch you?” Minho. Minho, it was Minho. “Open your eyes, buddy.” Heavy. His eyelids were so heavy. They were like stuck to his skin. Opening his eyes was painful. Hard. He struggled. His hand on his chest turned into a fist as he tried to open his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho was right there, kneeling in front of him, hands up in the air waiting for the authorization to touch him. He looked around, all the passersby were walking on their own. No one was looking at him. Tears spilled from his eyes as he stared at Minho again, plunging his entire body into his opened arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, buddy. Everything’s fine.” His friend’s hands on his back, his body trapped in his friend’s safe bubble. It felt better. It was safe. Warm. Nor was it the outside world, nor was it his inside world. It was Minho. Minho was safe. Minho was warm.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>find more work on my <a href="https://twitter.com/softflowermin">twitter</a> :]<br/>you can also ask question related to my works on my <a href="https://curiouscat.me/softflowermin">curiouscat</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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